


Beautiful Monsters

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Injured Armitage Hux, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, post-TROS AU where Hux survives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22717585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A dying General Hux finds himself on a mysterious planet where he encounters a strange yet familiar being, wondering whether he ought to trust his own eyes.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Beautiful Monsters

Armitage closed his eyes as the spacecraft made its turbulent descent through the canopy of trees, preparing for the impact that shook him in his seat. All around him lights flashed red in a futile warning to the half-conscious man in the pilot seat. As he felt death draw closer with its shroud, Hux experienced something like that of one who had long felt weary and would sleep at last – an indifference pierced only by the white hot pain which emanated below his ribs, his blood-stained hand gravitating to the wound which seeped through the bacta-gel infused gauze, a hurried medic’s attempt before time pressed him to make his escape. He did not know where he was, half remembering someone entering the coordinates and sending the ship upon its course as his body was lowered into the pilot’s seat. Slipping in and out of a reality, Armitage wondered what forgotten memories had composed themselves into the strange dreams and mirages which played before his heavy-lidded eyes. Claws and wings, a mane of feathers surrounding a human-like face, a thin ribcage and apish body. These dark wings beat upon the glass and powerful haunches tore open the door of the ship and he knew that death had come for him.

It approach Hux as he pointed his weapon at it with his bleeding arm, but it seemed not to fear or understand. He fired, adrenaline and terror keeping him lucid despite the pain of his injures, he felt weak and yet he struggled for this last remnant of life, instinct alone fueling him to a final effort of self-preservation. The first shot made a burning mark upon its leg and it recoiled with a reverberating shriek like an outraged macaw. The second shot it dodged, hurtling towards Hux and knocking the gun out of his hand. He could see it hunching over him, sniffing close to his wound as if attracted by the scent of blood – a face like that of a marmoset and two pairs of raven wings, one on its back and another like arms, ending in long bat-like fingers which stretched out towards him, picking up his body and carrying it clumsily and painfully out of the ship.

Hux did not thrash nor try to wound it, for he felt the being alight, stretching its expansive wings – sending sand flying in his face as it fanned the ground and raised itself into the air. The creature was something larger than a man in stature, the gauntness of its frame and its black-blue plumage giving it a wraith-like appearance as it swooped between the pillars of forest palms, bearing away its burden – as the exiled and half-dead First Order general. Its tail was long, nearly a two meters in length, parting with a serpent’s tongue as that of a swallow.

It carried his body in its awkward limbs, flying cumbrously such that its shoulder would at times graze the trees and vines which obscured its path. Again Hux closed his eyes from both pain and exhaustion, a resignation to whatever fate awaited him, too weak to prevent the course of fate, having little to bind him to the earth as he considered all that he had lost.

At last Hux felt himself being slowly lowered upon something soft which yielded under his weight. He was in a cavern, no, a nest. For the structure, built like a wicker-basket and insulated with something like clay, was built within a cavity of a towering tree, the roots of which stretched far across an expanse of tropical marshland.

Pin-like fingernails prodded open the seared fabric of his tunic and the torn bandages clotted with dry blood. The strands of life by which he perceived the shadowy form ministering over his body caused a tremor of fear and revulsion to pass through him as he imagined the beast’s maw sinking into the gore of his wound.

Instead, he felt a warm wetness cover him, dripping down along his sides and towards his exposed neck. Hux opened his eyes, beholding the creature coating his torso with its saliva, lapping it carefully over his wounds with its pink tongue. Only it was not the brown marmoset-like face that he saw, but the unmistakeable countenance of Kylo Ren, his dark locks intermingled with the feathery mane with which he first saw the being.

The days of his convalescence passed slowly, enduring the repetition of this procedure each morning and each night, feeling the saliva seep into his skin like a soothing balm, its regenerative properties taking effect. Day by day the face and body of the creature continued to change, appearing more human – more like the familiar figure of Kylo Ren, and yet something that was neither beast nor man. It carried shellfish and oysters to him, cracking them open with its talons and by means of rudimentary tools. When it deemed him well enough, it carried Hux down the tree to the forest floor, a most frightening descent during which he was forced to cling to it for his life. It led him to the coast to gather his own meals and to drink from the freshwater streams in the locality, all the while eyeing him watchfully such that he dared not attempt an escape.

It guarded him during the night as strange howls reached him from the darkness, surrounding Hux with the warmth of its body, pressing his limp form to its vulnerable underbelly and encircling him with its wings like a cocoon. To all of this he submitted, for something in him savored this warmth and physicality, a luxurious sensation into which his entangled limbs melted as he rested his head against its chest, listening to a slow steady heartbeat and at times, a faint purring sound which seemed to come from the base of its throat. He did not know how long he had slept, only when he opened his eyes it was still dark and the sound of rain pattered upon leaves, softly at first, and then building to a heavy deluge which made Hux grateful for the protection offered by the creature’s abode.

There were other oddities of custom or instinct which he was obliged to forebear during his convalescence. As he dozed into the late hours of morning, Armitage felt the unexpected softness of human lips pressing lightly upon his own, a tongue pushing forward as if inviting him to yield open to this tenderness. Dreamily, Armitage allowed the strange ambrosial sweetness to enter his mouth – it was almost cloyingly sweet, fragrant with a tropical aroma unlike any he had hitherto encountered.

It was only by a fit of coughing that he was roused into full wakefulness as the creature pushed morsels of the crushed pulp of an orange fruit between his parted lips. It stepped aside, waiting for him to recover himself before biting off more of the juicy flesh of the fruit and chewing it into a pulp, preparing to continue its ministrations as Armitage wiped his mouth and shuffled backward painfully. It looked at him with the face of a bemused Kylo Ren, moving after him tentatively.

Armitage felt that it would not do to offend his host, and so he willed himself to stay still as Ren brought forth the halved fruit. With his fingers Hux clawed out a morsel and brought it to his lips, chewing timidly as he stared back at the creature. He observed the changes in its figure, its shape and torso becoming more human-like, its haunches thinner, its hands and feet no longer like claws but the hands and feet of a man. Still, much of its plumage remained, including the great wings which obscured the light which filtered into their secluded bower.

By this act it was appeased and sat down to devouring the other half that was its share, nectar dripping down its feathery neck. Hux ate until his hunger was more than satiated, taking a strange pleasure in the barbarity of his manners, as ravenous and free as those of primitive man. As he ate, he thought of the primeval humanity of this beast and the machine-like coldness which he had known as a general of the First Order, and how surprisingly willingly and glad Hux found himself to be, sinking into those remnants of self that were still left to him after the destruction of his life’s ambitions. And yet, it was but an animal, a creature.

“Armitage too is but a creature,” Hux heard a voice, Kylo Ren’s voice, and he looked up to find the being staring at him again with its inscrutable face. “Slight of frame, flightless, of a naturally nervous and repressed disposition, pale and almost hairless, without claws, poor in strength and in vision, unmated, without a tribe”

Hux’s astonishment impeded the offense he might have taken at the blithe remark, there was also something markedly apathetic in the tone that he almost wondered if the being’s intention _had_ been to jeer at him, or only to make observation. His mouth gaped before he found words by which to answer it.

It set aside the empty shell of the fruit and crept close to his side, taking his sticky hand by the wrist. Hux allowed it to lap at his fingers with its tongue, cleaning him thereby, and forced himself to mimic the gesture in reciprocation. He thought he saw a puzzled smile cross its face as it held still for him, at which Armitage became aware of his own embarrassing arousal at the performance of this act, finding in it a peculiar intimacy, more so as the being leaned close to nuzzle his neck and his hair, rubbing his cheek against Hux’s as it purred. How strange it was to hear Kylo Ren pur.

Suddenly, he felt its arms grasp him, rubbing his back and then letting him go, as if to conclude their feast or their courtship. With its tail it swept away the remnants of their the fruit shells and then settled itself in one corner of the bower to its favorite pastime, which seemed to be gazing at Armitage with its owlish golden eyes, which never failed to disconcert him were he to meet them in the middle of the night.

“Y-you can read my thoughts?” murmured Hux into the silence, for he had not forgotten the first words that it had spoken to him.

“Yes,” it replied, “General Hux of the First Order thinks and thinks, a thousand troubles plague him, troubles which may not touch him here in the Valley of the Dead. For this is as place of rest and of comfort”

“H-how reassuring,” he forced himself to say.

“You have tasted the deity’s nectar and still you doubt your senses,” it made a low growling laugh. “Sleep pale sickly little man, tomorrow we shall wash your mane so that it is as fair as the sweetness of the Urgaruk fruit”

Hux’s face contorted at these compliments or insults, he could not tell which.

“Both,” chortled Ren, “for such General Hux of the First Order prefers,” and it drew Armitage into its arms as it settled into the fresh feathered corner in which they slept.

“Neither,” murmured Hux under his breath after an overlong delay, but again, the creature only laughed as it felt him make himself comfortable at its side, having grown used to its warmth and its presence as his sole companion upon the lonesome isle.

“Why do you look like _him_?” Armitage could not keep the question within him, one which he had longed to ask since he first beheld the face, only some deep unaccountable foreboding prevented him – a part of what the creature had said was true, that he still doubted the reality of the passing days, and feared to awaken from these soothing mirages, if such they were.

...

At times the creature would perch outside of its nest and sing to the sun’s dying light, the ethereal choral sound with which its throat vibrated reaching Armitage where he slept curled upon the clusters of downy feathers. He would open his eyes and listen to the sound, a dirge or serenade, or song of worship or of longing – he knew not what it was, only it stirred within him a feeling of release, his skin tingling like pinpricks with the sensation of something departing from his inner self, something polluted and consigned to depths of the subconscious. In those moments he felt at his most vulnerable and was glad that the creature faced to look at the sun and not at him, as if afraid that it should read within his eyes something he himself was unable to fully comprehend. And yet a part of him sensed by inexplicable instinct that the song was purifying him, reaching into to the core of his being and drawing out the venom which had accumulated over the years – hatred, frustration, jealousy, loneliness, pain and regret,

Hux remembered that night well, how they being had kept him from sleep so that they may watch the meteor shower – it was a clear night sky and from high in their tree they could see far into the distance. Armitage asked it about the geography of the isle, receiving vague answers. At last he entreated it to show him.

“What do you wish to see?” it spoke, a soft indulgent voice as of one who addressed a child who desired more than it could be given.

“Show me the most wondrous thing,” Hux answered after a pause, imitating the being’s fanciful abstraction to see what it would yield.

“Very well,” it bowed its head, “tomorrow you shall see it”

...

Armitage approached the dark pool from which the creature drank, watching while it lapped up the water.

As he neared the bank, Hux perceived something floating in the semblance of a starlit sky – like will-o-wisp, small fragments of luminescence – at times like globules, at times like strands, tracing paths through the water. Hux believed them to be some form of algae, and yet there was something about them which fascinated him, a kind of ethereal beauty which made him long to renounce the scientific for the otherworldly. Through the eyes of a child he longed to gaze, stirring a sense of wonder by which his body moved of its own accord, his hand reaching out to touch the still surface. Suddenly, the creature which had been hitherto observing him stretched out its wing to prevent him – a fiery look of warning in its black gleaming eyes, reminding him full well of the fiery temper of the man whose semblance it took.

Hux withdrew, startled out of his reverie, wondering at the strange impulse which had momentarily mesmerized him.

“What are these things that glow like embers in the water, you wish to know,” the being spoke in a human voice.

“Yes” whispered Armitage

“These waters flow from the Valley of Death, deep beneath the earth, and this – this light, it is the light of the ruptured souls”

“Ruptured?” Hux repeated, not comprehending.

“Torn, sliced, broken, transferred, scattered,” said the being. “The souls of the living are never truly destroyed, nor can they pass from one host to another without something being lost – the lost fragments, their energy, there they are floating – like starlight, ah yes, like starlight – for even your dim eyes see that they are beautiful, but you must not touch that which does not belong to you. Not yet, not without its body,” and again it dipped its neck and drank deeply from cupped hands. 

“Why do you drink from this pond?” asked Armitage. A part of him wished to say, how dare it – if its words contained an inkling of truth.

“To absorb the soul and the power of one whose essence I had glimpsed in your eyes,” it told him in a whisper, both mocking and threatening in tone, for it sense the unspoken rebuke.

“I do not know what you mean – _whose_ soul?” and yet he did know, all too plainly. He felt cornered by the being, from whom not even his thoughts were safe.

“Yes,” it answered before he could finish his thought. “Why does that disturb you, if it is the face that pleases you, pleases you best of all faces”

“It does not please me,” grimaced Hux, annoyed by these unwilling confessions which he had yet to make explicit even to himself.

“Such futile lies. Nevertheless, here you may look upon it to your content and never feel your throat be throttled in firm hands. When I found you, I saw this face. Yes -- how strange it was to behold, the face of hatred is the face of longing -- the same face!” said the creature with a croaking laugh, a sound uncommon to its throat. “The same face! The same!” it repeated as it splashed water onto its eyes.

“I believe you misconstrue my feelings,” Armitage protested feebly.

“Misconstrue?” it arched a brow. “No, no, the gods do not _misconstrue_. It is men who are befuddled by hatred and longing like a Barakii that stares too long at the sun. Yet these eyes behold you unflinchingly, Armitage”

“What do you know of hatred and longing,” Armitage turned away, hoping to hide his embarrassment by means of his reserve.

“You do not want your heart to be approached by vibrations,” he creature looked at him, a serious expression returning to Kylo’s face. It placed a hand upon Hux’s arm causing him to flinch at the unexpected contact.

“No more riddles, what is it that you need of me – tell it plainly,” the man could not help but look at it, mustering something of defiance for he did not wish to lose what was left of his self-respect. For too long he had been pliant and submissive to avoid the creature’s ire until his strength was restored, but he wondered if this prolonged dependence had made him weak and yielding to a master which he could very well do without.

“The pit of your stomach convulsing with sad pleasure,” it stroked its belly as it regarded Hux with a quivering expression which looked unnatural upon Kylo Ren, whose threatening mien he had grown used to seeing.”Yes, strange indeed,” it moved closer to him upon its hands and haunches.

“What is strange?” snapped Hux, growing irritable at being the object of this thing’s scrutiny.

“And yet, not strange,” Ren’s lips curled into a grin, “for you are drawn to power and enjoy submission, secretly of course, you crave the protection of another’s strength, you wish to control as a symbiotic serpent. And yet, he never pressed you to his bosom, you are so cold,” it said with emphasis.

Hux sat silently, his hands curling into fists as he stared down at the luminescence of the pool. He was unpracticed in such banter and knew that he could not deceive by means of words. The man felt uncomfortable to think that this thing could penetrate into his private thoughts and draw out anything it pleased, parading it before him for its amusement, merely to taunt him.

“Why are you so afraid of these feelings General Hux of the First Order?” the dark eyes gleamed. “My questions are without malevolence”

Hux felt as though he was being mocked, while being unable to utter a rebuke without further weakening his position. Still, he knew that he must say something, something to satisfy and silence the being’s intrusions.

“I find the conversation unpleasant and purposeless,” he said curtly. “In what way do these matters concern you?”

“I find it very pleasant and most elucidating,” it replied, smiling like a sphinx. “I perceive that you are unused to beneficent concern”

“Am I to repay your hospitality by indulging impertinent questions?” he scoffed, smirking at it in a show of nonchalance.

“Yes, for I am hungry for a sentient soul joined with sentient flesh, he and I both,” said the being unabashed.

“He – you mean Ren?” his face burned.

“Yes,” it settled itself beside him on the rock.

“Can you feel his thoughts and emotions too – I mean, what is left of him?”

“It is curious how you take a winding ambling route to the question that you truly wish to ask,” smirked Ren. “Yes, yes Armitage. In that heart there was something there for you to snatch at, and in _this_ breast it is resurrected,” it breathed, a satisfaction apparent on its countenance. “And besides _yes_ , be assured, these intentions are honorable”

Hux swallowed, wondering if these allusions where what he thought.

“And what did he -- you think of me, _then_?” Hux wished to make certain.

“That you are sickly and strange, ridiculous and endearing, such softness I am afraid to touch it, to wound it, and yet not to is to wound too”

And it reached out its hand and pressed it gently to his chest.

“A thousand thin shells one within another within another, breaking in succession,” it murmured softly close to his ear.

“What are you doing?”

“Soothing”

“N-no,” and yet he could feel himself yielding to the touch. Kylo’s hands cupped his face and kissed his lips, lowering him onto the grass. 

“I am cold too Armitage,” and as it drew nearer, it bowed its head near the crook of his neck, its long dark locks hanging over its brow as it pressed Hux’s hand. The man petted it awkwardly as it emitted a low purring noise.

“Curious are the modes of courtship, to provoke desire by scorn, rouse passion by cruelty, and more so by indifference – but what might gentleness be repaid with?” the creature said silkily, caressing his side. “Is it an overripe and cloying fruit to you, General Hux of the First Order?”

“I-I have not tasted such fruits,” he said, a part of him felt frightened by the being’s unmistakeable advances, and yet, another side of him was drawn by something like curiosity – to be the object of another’s desires fanned a dormant vanity in him, a longing to be wanted by a being which claimed to desire him in the semblance of his long unrequited love.

“You lie, for have I not ministered to your needs and wants with the attentativeness of a lover, endeavouring to make a paradise of this isle and a slave of a god?” again it smiled its sphinx’s smile, yet in its words he felt the familiar arrogance of Ren.

“A god you say?” Hux could not mask the amusement of his voice.

“Yes, a god,” repeated the creature, unabashed.

“And what makes you a god?” he smirked with half-masked derision.

“My song summons the sun to rise and to set over the horizon, the fruits grow in their season as I desire them, the beasts of the land cower at my feet, the beasts of the sea flee at my shadow, the beasts of the air scatter at the beating of my wings,” it pronounced, “and the fates reward me with the gifts of the stars, of which you are one. I wished for a disciple and a mate, with plumage the hue of the flesh of the Urgaruk fruit, with skin as soft as the petals of the wandering flower, with eyes the color of the Northern sands – and you are he, Armitage, you are he who my soul has known as I wandered in dark halls, hiding my face. When my heart burned with wrathfulness, leaving no room for love. When I would tear and rip apart that which I most adored, and now I seek to make amends, to lick the wounds that I have made”

Hux could not stop himself from drawing back as the being grasped for him after its arduous and florid oration. Nor could the creature hide the offense it took at this reaction.

“M-my apologies,” Hux tried to recover himself, “I did not expect...such...such...”

“Silence, I understand you too well,” its scowl subsided and it picked up Hux in its arms, preparing to take flight.

That night, Hux could not fall asleep, nor could the being, which turned often, unable to find repose.

“I wish that I had known,” Hux heard Ren’s somber voice and opened his eyes. He was sitting up, holding the wings in his arms as tears poured down his face.

Cautiously, Armitage approached, following the other’s gaze to the disheveled plumage which seemed to quickly decay. There was very little of the creature left in him, nearly all was like that of Kylo Ren, all but the eyes – which still retained their golden hue, the light of which seemed to grow dimmer through the night as Hux embraced him, kissing his tear-stained cheek.

“I am sorry,” whispered Armitage as the other’s loss penetrated through his own spirit.

“This sorrow will pass, so long as you shall remain,” Kylo gazed into his eyes with tenderness and melancholy intertwined, “I am yours now, and you are mine”


End file.
